Brain Activity
by LovlyRita
Summary: Harry Potter has died, and Hermione Weasley is the last remaining piece of the golden trio left alive. Now 44 years old, she thirsts for the glory of her youth and the reunion of her friends. When she carelessly plays with magic in order to revive the fallen hero, the results were not as she dreamed. Her dearest wish has unleashed the Wizarding World's biggest nightmare.
1. The Zombie Lord

It was always so damp in the ministry's morgue department, buried deep in the bowels of the otherwise inviting and spectacularly decorated mecca of government in Wizarding Britain. Hermione Weasley sat on a cold bench, the light of the candelabra above her barely enough to illuminate her next pathway. It was up to her to see that the process was done correctly. He had been her best friend, after all.

Harry Potter was lain out on the table, completely naked save for a white sheet draped lazily over his lifeless form. How utterly human it had been, his death. He had fought valiantly in his youth, always with honor and a charisma that could not be matched anywhere in the world. So how crushing, at the age of 44, to be taken by myocardial infarction. The press had said the heart attack was due to the stress he'd been under at work, eating poorly, and a predisposition to high blood pressure. The Daily Prophet ran articles about James Potter's parents, how they had died tragically young with only one son. The conjecture was that James might have gone the same way, had he not succumbed to Voldemort when Harry was only a tot.

In the foot steps of his father, and his grandparents before him, Harry had died too early, much too early. Just a few years after her Ron, who had died while attempting to crush a rebellion in the highlands of Scotland. Harry had never quite gotten over the loss, and Hermione was forced to raise her children on her own. Rose was 18, freshly graduated from Hogwarts and an apprentice at St. Mungo's, working to become a healer. Hugo was 16, still at school, but his father's death had hit him particularly hard. And then there were Harry's children with Ginny Weasley, who were currently grieving over their father- James, 20 years old working as a free lance photographer for the Daily Prophet; Albus, 18, who had done exceptionally well through school and was now beginning auror training, and Lily, 16, still at Hogwarts with her Hugo.

Hermione thought over the children as she bent over Harry's body, determined not to cry. She, of course, was able to confirm the heart attack with a wave of her wand, but the ministry had called for physical proof, given the elevated nature and endless popularity Harry had enjoyed during his life. She had volunteered personally for the job, despite the cries of emotional entanglement from the office. She'd put her time in with the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and would be soon moving over to Magical Law Enforcement following this tragedy. She'd seen many autopsies involving animals and magical creatures, so much so that she imagined that doing a human may not be so horrible. So, some leeway was given to her, and she was allowed to continue, under the supervision of the head of the department.

Mercifully, he was not here at the moment, for when he was, Hermione could smell his foul breath and could feel his eyes staring at her every movement twenty-five percent of the time, and at her arse the other seventy-five percent.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered to no one, as she waved her wand and watched his skin close neatly, as though he would now spring off the table in a fit of joy. It was truly ridiculous that magic could not raise the dead, it could do so many other amazing things. Why not re-animate nervous tissue? What was the harm? Hermione halted the ridiculous thoughts at once. She knew very well the consequences of trying to revive the dead. If the inferi were any indication, nothing good could ever come from it. And yet, the inferi were simply nothing more than animated corpses, they were not actually attempts at bringing the person back to life. They were simply told to move by magic, the same way she often animated her dishes to do themselves when she was lazy. It wasn't exactly science.

"Stop it," she whispered to herself, pulling the sheet over Harry's head. The fresh spring air outside was beckoning to her, and clearly it would do her some good. Gathering her belongings, she placed a temperature spell over the room so that the body would continue to stay fresh, and promptly left.

Above the morgue, the hallways were bustling with happy wizards and witches, on their way home to family and a hot dinner, and perhaps intimate moments later with husbands and wives. The closeness of the human connection, the very thing she'd taken for granted for years. Familiar tears began to war their way to the surface, and she swallowed hard to discourage them. She had to be strong for her children, for Ginny, for everyone else. Now was not the time to crack under the monstrous weight of grief.

Despite the normal chatter of the ministry, a heavy cloud hung down upon the mood. The interior of the halls had been changed to black, in order to honor the fallen hero Harry Potter. The statue that had been erected of him after the war was covered in rings of tiny white flowers and trinkets of remembrance. Hermione did not cast a glance at his stony face, frozen in an eternal smile.

Within minutes, she arrived to relax in the comfort of her own home. Her daughter, Rose, was already there, sitting in a lounge chair in the living room, books scattered haphazardly around her.

"Hi, Mum," she said in greeting, not bothering to rise.

"Afternoon, darling," Hermione replied wearily. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging above their mantle and saw that her hair was frizzy and stubbornly escaping the tight bun she had wrapped that morning. "How was work today?"

"The same. People are talking about Uncle Harry but I don't want to talk about him to anyone. I just can't."

"I know, dear. Stay strong, the funeral is tomorrow, and then we can put this business behind us and move on, just as we did after your father. Have you spoken with your Aunt Ginny?"

"No," was her sullen reply. "I haven't. Are you going over this evening?"

"I fear I must. I'm to deliver some dinner today," Hermione fretted, glancing around her cupboards for something quick and easy to make. "Do you want to come? I bet Albus would be happy to see you."

"I might. I just have a few more things to study for my exam tomorrow."

Hermione found some chicken and decided to bake it quickly with some potatoes and asparagus as a side. Once it was finished, she waved her wand to package it.

"Well, I'll see you in a bit then, Rose. Don't be too long if you decide to come."

"Alright, Mum. See you later."

Hermione grabbed some floo powder from the mantle, and thew the green crystals into the fire. Within seconds she was standing in the Potter's familiar living room. Their house was grand, with dark hardwood floors and expensive furnishings. Pictures of the family smiled and waved to her from the walls. The house was well lit, but it still seemed dark and uninviting without Harry's booming voice to greet her. Ginny was seated on the couch, surrounded by some of her old friends from the championship HolyHead Harpies team she'd been a part of some years ago.

"Hermione," Ginny choked in greeting.

"Oh, Ginny."

Hermione dropped off the food onto the kitchen counter and joined her friend in the living room.

"What am I going to do? Lily is coming home from school in an hour, James is still off running around, getting drunk with his friends to stop the pain, and Albus is in his room, refusing to come out. I can't do all of this on my own...I can't do it, Hermione...I can't, I can't..."

She dissolved into tears once more, they streamed down her face and into her hands.

"Ginny, you can. You can do this. I'll go try to talk to Albus. Rose should be along soon, maybe she can help talk some sense into him."

Ginny answered her with a loud sob, collapsing into the arms of one of her other friends. Hermione made her way down the hallway, stealing glances at the happy, ignorant family on the wall that had been rocked from their happy cocoon and now lay in tattered shambles for the world to point at and feel sorry for.

The second door on the left belonged to Albus, decorated handsomely with the Gryffindor house colours that had once been his.

"Albus?"

"Go away, I said!" he snarled from the other side.

"It's your Aunt Hermione," she said gently. "Rose will be around soon. Please let me talk to you."

"I don't want to talk, there's nothing to discuss. Just leave me be."

"Your mother is in the living room waiting," she tried again.

"I know, and sobbing, no doubt. I can't deal with it, I can't deal with her crying all the time, she's driving me insane. Just leave me alone and let me have some peace, will you?"

"As you wish." Hermione was determined that if anyone could get him out of that room, Rose could. "I love you, Albus. Don't forget that."

No answer was heard from the other side.

As she ambled back to the living room, her thoughts wandered once more back to the cold table that Harry's body was occupying. She'd read some things once...no. It wasn't a good idea to try. But what if she could give Ginny her husband back? Give Albus, James, and Lily their father back? If anyone could do it, she could. Suddenly, with all the clarity in the world, Hermione knew what she had to do.

"Ginny, I'm sorry, I have to go. Your food, it's chicken and potatoes and asparagus, enough for the whole lot of you. I...I'm so sorry. I'll see you tomorrow."

She disapparated without another word, and within 20 minutes she was back down in the lab with Harry. She donned the protective jacket and glasses, and set to work with her wand. She warmed the room to 37 degrees C, normal body temperature. She then warmed his body to that, hoping that it would last. When it did, she felt excitement rise in her as her finger tips danced through the air over his body, conjuring up all the energy she could. She murmured a few protective spells, and felt the warmth in her hands as she tried to revive his brain. She could almost feel the connections in his spinal cord spring to life.

"Come on," she whispered. "Come back to me, Harry. Come back to Ginny." His eyelids flew open but the stare was still glassy, still lifeless. The room emanated with power. Some of the glass vials on the wall shattered, their contents leaking around the room, floating through the air. The glow under her hands was golden, thriving with life.

She was over heating, it was much too hot, but she pressed on. The feeling under her fingers was electricity, the messages she sent to brain, spinal cord, heart, lungs, liver and muscle alike. It screamed life.

"Come on, Damnit!" she yelled this time, her breathing labored. The contents of the broken vials began to mix together as it floated through the air. Hermione found this odd, as though the unknown liquids were being drawn to the magical energy as well. Suddenly the mixture of liquids, dark as night, centralized under her hands and hung in the air as if it were connected to a string, frozen and ominous.

Hermione was losing it, she couldn't hold on to the spell much longer. Harry was still lifeless, though his skin seemed to glisten and its colour seemed healthy again. Finally, with a grunt, she released the spell and collapsed backward onto the bench. The magical mixture that had seemingly created itself also released, bathing Harry's body in inky blackness.

She watched in horror as ulcers began to form on his fragile skin, melting away some of the flesh to the bone.

"Oh, God, no," She said, her heart racing. She used her wand to try and clean the body but it was no use. The toxic concoction had left its irreparable mark. She felt the tears finally stream down her grimy face. What had she done?

The sobs took her then, the ones she'd been holding the entire day. They were loud and echoed in the vacant room.

She didn't hear the rustle on the table through her grief. She didn't see the first movement of the fingers or the wiggling of the toes. Not until he sat up straight, did she notice. She screamed, loudly.

"H-Harry?" She gasped, looking at his face, which was pockmarked and unsightly.

"Rarrrrrg," was his reply.

"Harry?" She tried again. His eyes met hers. The irises were completely black. He attempted to stand from the table, and she felt herself moving backward. This wasn't Harry...this was a monster.

"RrrrrAAARRRG," the demon Harry yelled, as he transferred to standing. He was naked in front of her now, moving clumsily in her direction.

"Merlin..." she whispered. "Z...Zombie. ZOMBIE. SHIT!" It had Harry's face, and Harry's body, but it was not him. She watched as he came closer, and stared in awe as he moved. It truly was Harry, and yet not. "I've got to get out of here."

He lunged at her then, making angry, wet sounding noises as he did so. He stunk of death and rot.

"Immobilus!" She cried, attempting to stop him from coming at her, but the spell did not affect him. After attempting several other spells with no success, Hermione realized her situation was dire.

She backed up slowly, as the awkward zombie came toward her, and tripped over something on the floor. Pain sprung quickly in her ankle, and she knew it was broken. Attempting to stand, she cried out in agony and limped toward the door as he lunged for her again. Finally, she reached the door, ran out of it, and slammed it shut behind her, locking it with such a ferocity the lock nearly broke. The zombie Harry yelled in frustration as he unsuccessfully attempted to breach the barrier.

Hermione sighed as she slipped slowly to the concrete floor. Her ankle throbbed annoyingly, but she ignored it as she tried to regain her senses and the famed logical thinking that had made her such an asset during the war. What had broken during the spell, what had caused this? It wasn't just the magic, it was the substances that had flown out of the vials. Whatever it was, the zombie didn't seem to be able to be touched by magic, or at least none of the things she'd tried.

One thing she knew for certain. It had to be killed. Tonight.


	2. Residue

One of his favourite things about working at Hogwarts was marking homework parchments at his large mahogany desk at night by candlelight, with the vast expanse of twinkling stars a stunning back drop against the spooky forbidden forest serving as his scenery. Garbed in silk, ruby coloured pyjamas, Neville Longbottom had achieved success as the dedicated head of Gryffindor house and Herbology professor. He smiled as he marked a few corrections on a second year's essay with his quill. His chambers were decorated with warm red tapestries, and the glowing flames in the fireplace chased the early spring chill from his bones. Life was absolutely grand for him. His children had grown up, his beautiful wife came to visit him every weekend during the school year, and being head of Gryffindor was one of the greatest honours he had ever dreamed to have.

It literally would have been impossible for Neville to have dreamed of a better or fuller life; he had everything on earth. So, when news of Harry Potter's death swept through the castle like a poisoned fiendfyre, Neville found himself extremely saddened, and yet grateful for the blessings that life had bestowed upon him. Harry had been a treasured friend, and they had stayed close following the war. His children had spent weekends at Harry's, and vice versa. Along with Ron and Hermione, the end of their youth and the flourish of adulthood hadn't been a particularly smooth transition, but they had made it all work.

Neville shook his head and attempted to concentrate on his marking once more. He still had another stack of N.E.W.T. level essays to grade, which would be a much more tedious task than the second years' essays, for sure. His head was swimming with tales of magical plants and herbs when a frantic knock came from the other side of the door into his chambers. Frowning slightly, Neville placed his quill on the desk and stood, wrapping himself in a large oversized terry cloth robe. He stole a quick glance at his receding hairline in the mirror and sighed before moving toward his door. The knock came again, louder this time.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," he muttered. He grabbed the golden handle and pulled back, only to be nearly run over by a figure dressed in black.

"Neville!" It was that same, familiar, yet raspy voice called. Disgruntled, he turned to meet his guest and was completely taken aback by her appearance. Her hair stood in every which direction, her clothes were torn and nearly hanging from her thin form, and she was bleeding from multiple sites on her forearms and face.

"Hermione? What the hell happened?" He pulled up a chair quickly for her to sit down.

"Neville, I've done something terrible..." she carried off, collapsing in the handsomely upholstered seat trimmed in gold.

"Tell me. Tell me everything."

"Harry...it's...I've created...and he..." She was stuttering, as though she could barely believe the words coming from her mouth.

"Hermione," he began, the muscles in his face beginning to relax. "I think I understand. I miss him too. Of course life is hard without him, and it'll be difficult to say goodbye, but we'll move on, like we always do."

"No! Neville, listen to me, you have to listen. I've done something, terrible. I have these-" she reached deeply into her pockets and pulled out shards of glass, all of which had varying shades of colourful residue on them, "-and you have to tell me what this is on it. Or help me find something, the potions master...someone...I've done something awful."

"What are you on about?" he asked suspiciously, glancing around the room. Hermione seemed completely wild.

"It's hard to explain. I thought...it's silly, really. I thought that...if I used some spells...some healer magic, some ancient things, that I might...be able to revive Harry. And...it worked. Sort of."

Neville's jaw dropped, and he stood frozen in place, scarcely believing her words.

"You brought Harry back to life?"

"Yes. Well, no, but..." she met his gaze then, and he could feel the sheer terror in the weight of it. "I created a zombie. A Harry zombie."

"You...you what? That's not possible." Perhaps she had a fever, or it could be stress from helping Ginny plan the funeral. Or perhaps she'd eaten some bad food.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. It is possible, and I have proof in the basement of the Ministry."

Neville raised his eyebrows incredulously before leaning against the edge of his desk. The impossible sentence she had just uttered danced in his brain. The proposition...the actuality of it...was more than just ridiculous. It was utterly terrifying.

"Why would there be a zombie in the basement? There are no such thing as zombies, just inferi, and Harry is no inferi."

"Neville." Hermione's voice had lost its distressed fluctuation. "I tried some spells I shouldn't have. I didn't have a firm knowledge of what I was doing. I had a flippant thought while grieving, while watching Ginny cry and the son Harry loved so much refusing to come out of his room for anyone. I thought of Ron, and the way that I've been forced to live my life and...I didn't want that for Ginny. I didn't want it for me. So I tried a stupid spell, I don't think I ever actually thought it would work. When I started the spell, there was this warmth in the room, and then these vials...they burst." She held out the shards of glass again. "The contents all combined into this thick black substance that ended up washing Harry when the spell was over. And a few minutes later...Harry looked at me with the darkest eyes I've ever seen on a person. And then he attacked me. I hurt my ankle and...Neville, I'm not lying to you. Harry is walking, and he can see. But he isn't alive."

Neville took in each word of her story, feeling himself escape further into despair. If what she said was true...

"We have to go to see Roger Davies. He's the potions master now after Slughorn died a few years ago. He'll be able to help us out with this. But Hermione...if what you're saying is true, then that means he could infect other people if he comes into contact with them. The myths about zombies are that they feed on-"

"-human nervous tissue," Hermione finished. "I know. They like human brain, it's what drives them. And worst of all, they can't be touched by magic, or at least Harry can't. I tried everything except the killing curse. He just kept coming at me, moaning with this gargling voice. I don't know what to do, but I need to figure out what these vials are."

Neville sighed and stood upright, nodding. "Right. Come on then, off to Ravenclaw tower."

"Wait, wait," Hermione breathed, rolling up the leg of her trousers. Her ankle had turned purple and was swollen three times its normal size. "I have to fix this before we go anywhere."'

"Alright," Neville eyed injury with uncertainty. "Shall I call upon the infirmary...or...?"

"No, no, I think I can do it, but it's going to be painful. Healing has not always been my strong suit." Hermione pointed her wand at her ankle, took a deep breath, and murmured a healing spell. All at once, her ankle was on agonizing fire as the bones and ligaments slowly mended themselves. She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming, and within minutes her skin had returned to its normal colour. "That'll do for now. Let's go."

The corridors of Hogwarts were deserted as the team bounded quickly, their footsteps echoing in the empty expanse. It seemed like hours before they reached the tower, and Hermione felt like she was a student again. If she wasn't so terrified of her creation, she would have enjoyed it. Neville knocked on the large door to Davies' quarters, and he opened it sleepily a minute later.

"Neville? Hermione Weasley? To what do I owe this honour?" His voice dripped heavily with the arrogance that had tainted his persona since youth.

"I need your help. Immediately," Hermione started, inviting herself into his room.

"What's the rush, Weasley? Surely this could have waited until morning, I do have classes tomorrow, you know."

"Listen to her, Roger. It's serious." Neville was always the peacemaker.

"I need you to tell me what the residue on these glass shards are." Hermione held out her hand and dumped them onto the corner of his desk. His room was decorated in cool Ravenclaw blue, and his desk sat in the corner of the room with a plaque announcing Ravenclaw as last year's house cup winners adorning the wall behind him.

He raised his eyebrows at her and turned back to his desk, eying the pieces suspiciously.

"What's the rush? That hardly seems to be something I should trouble myself with this late in the evening."

"Just _do_it, Davies!" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation. "This is official Ministry business. It's a special job, I'll pay you if that's what you're looking for, I just need the results ASAP."

"Well, I can't just look at this and know what the substance is, can I? It'll take a few days to run tests. Dreadful time of year, very busy."

Suddenly Hermione drew her wand and pointed it at Roger Davies' throat, leaving Neville's mouth agape. Roger sucked in a breath in surprise and narrowed his eyes ominously.

"Listen to me. You will do it, and you will do it now. This is not up for debate. This is a matter of life and death...or...anyway, I need you to do this now. Look at them, and tell me what you know." She pointed with her other hand, bidding him permission to turn to look.

"You'll regret this, Weasley."

"Not as much as you will if you don't do this."

"What are you going to do? You don't have it in you, not perfect Hermione," he gloated. Hermione felt her features grow dark as the anger she'd been fighting to abate grew around her.

"Oh don't be stupid. I'm not going to kill you. But I work at the Ministry, and am just starting work for the department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm sure I could find something. Failing to assist with an investigation, perhaps."

Roger rolled his eyes dramatically and rolled up the sleeves of his robe.

"Very well. But I wasn't lying about the time. It will take me a few days to run some tests to figure out exactly what the chemicals are." He grabbed a few of pieces and held them up to the candle. One of them was dark brown in colour. "This one looks like juice from the sophorous bean which of course is used in draught of the living death."

"Well that's helpful," Neville put in quietly.

"This piece...it's hard to tell, I'm not sure. This other one, the purplish colour suggests that it was already a potion, maybe invigoration draught, maybe something else. Looks like this could be hellebore...it looks like it's from a store of potions and ingredients, to be honest. I'll have to run tests, like I said-_Would you get that bloody thing out of my face_!"

Hermione blinked several times before lowering her wand. "Sorry. Thanks for your help. Get to work and figure it out. I'll check back later. Neville, Come on. I need you to come with me."

"Wait!" Roger snarled, whipping around. "You need to tell me what I'm doing this for. I don't work for free."

"You'll be rewarded for your time. Calm down. It's for Ministry business."

"I don't buy that bullshit. This isn't at all the Ministry way, I've worked on projects for them before. I demand to know what this work is going towards, and how I'll be compensated."

"You ought to show him what he's working for. That'd shut him up," Neville muttered, clearly unhappy to be of no use.

"Shut up, Neville," Hermione urged. "Fine. I'll pay you 120 galleons for it. And what it's for is top secret."

"Longbottom seems to know," Roger put in.

"Well...all right then. If you want to see it, you'll have to come to the Ministry with me."

"I'm not about to be 'escorted' to the Ministry if that's what you think."

"Fine, don't. Either way, I've got things I have to do. So thanks for your help at such short notice. The...Ministry...appreciates it." Hermione smiled at him, almost daring him to come.

"Right. Find your own way out then. I'll send a report to your office, most likely in 3-4 days."

When they were back in Neville's quarters, Hermione sat back down in her chair by the fire and put her head in her hands. Neville gave her a firm pat on the back.

"I'll come with you if you want," he said nervously, wringing his fingers together.

"Neville, don't be silly. You've got classes tomorrow. This is my burden, my stress. I did this." Her words seemed to sink in then for the first time all night. "Oh my...I did this. This is my fault. I...I ruined Harry. I ruined him! And his funeral...his funeral is tomorrow and I...Ginny will never forgive me and..." The tears slipped from her eyes again but she brushed them angrily away.

"Stop it," Neville instructed. "This is not all your fault. You couldn't have seen this coming. Either way, we need to get back to the Ministry and...kill him...again. Before he kills someone else."

"How! How are we to kill him? Magic doesn't seem to work!" She cried, exasperated.

"Well, I haven't figured that out yet. But we'll find a way. Knives maybe."

"Maybe..."

"I'm coming with you," he asserted.

"Then we should go. Because the longer we sit here, the more time we waste. I've been gone nearly two hours. Let's go."

The duo stole away into the night, and disapparated once they reached the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Once they apparated into London, just outside the Ministry, Hermione immediately knew something was amiss. There were several witches and wizards roaming around outside the Ministry.

"What..." Neville started, but he was unable to finish. There was a clear path of destruction down the side street behind the dilapidated building that adequately hid the gorgeous architecture of the Ministry.

"Oh no...oh no..." Hermione repeated several times, looking around. There were several people in the road, blood surrounding their broken bodies. It was grotesque, and Neville diverted his gaze. "He's escaped...I don't know how...but he's gone..."


	3. The Zombie Queen

The back alleys of London always seemed dingy and unsafe, but that didn't stop the young beggar from standing his normal post on the street corner. He prayed each night that someone might spare him a few pence, maybe even a pound or two, if he was lucky. After a few days of saving, he'd head down to the shop to get a loaf of bread and some cheese for himself and his sister. It was the way his life had been ever since his mother had been busted for drugs and his father had died from an overdose. Instead of being taken by social services to find a foster family, he and his sister had gone on the run. He was only seventeen years old, but he had grand plans to get a job and maybe even get back to school somehow... or at least get his sister to school. She deserved that much at least.

Despite the recent arrival of spring, the frigid air sent a chill through his bones. He blinked a few times, trying to keep the familiar stabs of fatigue at bay. It was easy to grow tired with the unending monotony of begging for spare change. If he stood too long, sometimes the people meandering by would all start to look the same, blurs of well-to-do women with expensive handbags and upturned noses, and men in black suits with silk ties and extramarital affairs on their minds. It was all the same mundane routine, and yet his pockets remained woefully empty.

Suddenly, he heard a scrape from behind, and he turned quickly. A figure was making its way down the alleyway. It was a male, completely naked, and his gait pattern was oddly broken up and halted.

"Erm...sir? Sir?" The beggar had an extremely uneasy feeling about the man, but something seemed to draw him in. He felt completely rooted to his spot, unable to tear his gaze away from the horribly disfigured, pockmarked arms. As the man grew ever closer, he could hear a low rumble in his throat, and the scraping noises of his feet began to grate on his nerves. It became increasingly obvious that the stranger was not in his right mind.

"Sir... you'll want to cover up. The-the police around here are... are pretty hard on... erm... criminals..." the beggar trailed off. The stranger passed through a street lamp just then, and a hazy yellow light cast a glow across the face. His eyes were coal black with no iris, and his mouth hung at an odd angle. The beggar noted a scar above his eye in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Finally, the boy found his legs, the connections between synapses firing frantically, sending the signal that danger was approaching. But he had waited too long. Despite the fact that the stranger had moved slowly and clumsily, he snapped to some sort of attention and lunged gracefully like a jungle cat. The beggar never had a chance.

As the zombie struck his fourth victim of the night, it was quite apparent that he was no longer hidden by the shadows. The people who had been passing by had stopped, gripped by terror and yet also strangely drawn to this creature, as though someone had tied their feet to the well worn concrete. The street corner filled with high pitched screams.

***

"GINNY!" Hermione pounded on the windows of the Potter's house. "OPEN UP, _PLEASE_!"

Neville whispered quietly, "The door's opening..." A red head popped her head out from behind the glass.

"What do you want, Aunt Hermione? It's nearly 2 AM!" Lily Potter exclaimed. "Come in."

"I need to speak with your mother immediately," Hermione pressed, passing her niece in her race to get inside the house.

The dark sitting room did little to unsettle Hermione, as she rushed to the back of the house and knocked on the large door that used to belong to two.

"Ginny! Ginny, please! Open the door!" She heard some rustling behind the door, and decided not to wait for her sister-in-law.

"Hermione! Merlin! What do you want? It's the middle of the night!" Ginny spat, trying to cover herself in a robe.

"Ginny, I've done something terrible and you might be in danger, and...I need to get you and the kids to safety."

"What? You've done something? Is... everyone ok?"

"I'll explain later, I just need to get you to safety. Come on."

"I can't just... leave," Ginny said quietly, as she stood from her bed.

"I have reason to believe that there might be a... creature... that might try to come here and... possibly... harm you. I don't know for sure, but I don't want to take any chances. I have... no idea what this... creature is capable of."

"Why would he come after me? What is all this about?" Ginny frowned deeply, and Hermione could instantly see the toll that Harry's death had taken on her inexplicably youthful features. Ginny Weasley finally looked her age.

"No time to explain. Come on!"

Lily's sudden scream sent shivers up Hermione's spine. It had happened... he was already there.

"_No!_" she yelled, leaving a confused Ginny standing her room, her mouth agape. The hallway was so black, Hermione hit her hand on the door frame and swore loudly as she illuminated the tip of her wand and ran.

"Lily! Are you ok?"

"I-I'm fine," she stuttered. "Neville just scared me... I didn't even know he was here." Neville sheepishly grinned at Hermione. He was standing in the middle of the living room, mud covering his shoes.

"I stayed outside. She saw me and... I reacted poorly."

"Why were you just randomly standing outside? That's weird," Lily put in, rolling her eyes in typical teenage fashion.

Hermione felt her heart beat wildly against her chest as she lowered her wand.

"You scared me half to death. Neville... get Albus and James up."

"James isn't here. He didn't come home last night..." Lily said simply, before taking a seat on the couch.

"What the _hell_ is going on out here?" Albus stood in red flannel pants and no shirt, his hair just as unruly as his father's had been.

"Albus! Language!" His mother appeared behind him and tapped him on the head in warning.

"We have to go. There is a creature loose, and he might come here, and we need to go now!"

"Nobody is going anywhere. Hermione, you're stressed, so am I. I think you've been working at the ministry for too long now. The funeral is tomorrow; can we at least get through that? I'm so damned tired... I just want to sleep..." her voice broke and carried off, and Hermione recognized the familiar sheen in Ginny's eyes.

"Oh God, not again," Albus complained, turning to stalk off.

"Ginny, please, listen to me. I am telling you the honest truth, I wouldn't have come here if I didn't think it was a legitimate threat. Neville can back me up here, can't you, Neville?"

Ginny's tearful gaze switched sharply to Neville. The three of them had been friends since their days at Hogwarts, going from sharing class notes and battling Voldemort and the Death Eaters to sharing summer barbecues and loaning the children out for sleepovers. Hermione has never seen fear in Neville's eyes before, not really. He truly belonged in Gryffindor, the house that nurtured him into the man that stood before her. But on this night, Neville's face was dark, and Hermione noted the deep bags that had formed under his eyes, in less than three hours time.

"Ginny, what Hermione says is true. There's a creature that is on the loose, and there is a credible chance that he might end up here."

"What _kind _of creature? Centaur? Troll? Crazy unicorns with lazy eyes? Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? My _husband's_ funeral is tomorrow, and I can't deal with this right now. Lily, Albus, go back to bed. Hermione, we will see you tomorrow at the service."

"No." Neville's voice was clear and authoritative. "Ginny, you are being ridiculous. I've spent my life teaching and protecting children, and I'm not going to have you put your children's life in danger because of your grief. Now you don't have to come with us, that's fine. But we are not going to leave Albus and Lily here. Not while there is a threat."

"_You won't even tell me what it is!_"

"Mum...maybe we should listen to them." Lily's voice was small and shaky, and Hermione noted the fear written there.

"We're wasting time. Either you are coming, or you're not."

Ginny's eyes darted wildly from her children to her captors.

"What is the matter with you? When Ron died, we did everything... everything to help you. Why are you not extending me the same courtesy? You will _not_ take my children, we are _not_ leaving, and that is the end of it."

Hermione heard it first. The scraping noise outside was louder than she'd remembered it.

"What's that?" Lily asked, glancing toward the window.

"_Shit!_ We have to go,_ NOW_!"

Scratches began emanating from the outside of the door, yet Ginny stood transfixed, staring at the door handle as it turned. The noise was a low hum, and Hermione instantly recognized what was happening.

"There are more of them. And there are some types of magical powers they still have control of."

"Aunt Hermione!" Lily screamed and got up from the couch as the front window shattered into the living room, sending shards spilling onto the floor.

"Come on, grab my hand," Neville instructed, pulling Lily over towards her brother.

"_Ginny!_"

"Harry..." She said in a distant voice. Hermione's gaze shot to the door and there, stumbling through, was her husband, now clothed in a black suit and silk tie. Blood was drizzled around the fabric.

"_No! Ginny, PLEASE!_."

"Harry... what's happened to you...?" Ginny seemed ignorant of all of the other things happening in the room, her eyes transfixed on Harry broken body. A small army had formed around him now, zombies that Hermione didn't recognize.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Neville called, his wand shakily pointed at Harry. Nothing. Nothing but a whisp of smoke emanated from the end of the wand.

"You have to _mean_ it Neville," Hermione urged, as though they were sitting back in the classroom at Hogwarts.

"I did mean it! I want to kill this bloody bastard!"

"Dad?" Lily's voice was small.

"_Get them OUT of here_!" Hermione shrieked. "Albus, take Lily and _go!_"

The zombies began lunging forward toward the family, and Neville grabbed the children and disapparated away. Hermione grabbed her wand and lit the tip so it was hot as fire. She grabbed Ginny's arm, but it was nothing more than a cold, stony mass. It was as though there was a magical force field drawing Ginny toward certain death. Hermione pulled on her arm as one of the zombies zoned in on her.

Hermione quickly sliced the air with her wand, hitting the zombie at the elbow. The dead arm fell off and smacked the floor, where it reanimated itself and started crawling around blindly. A small shock of victory shot through her and she swiped again, aiming for the neck. The zombie fell, headless, to the floor.

"_Yes!_" She exclaimed. She turned to see Ginny and met her eyes at the last second before Harry closed in on her.

"_GINNY!_" She screamed for the last time. Another group of Zombies began to close in on Hermione and she ran to the back of the house to disapparate away.

The zombie king had found his queen.


	4. Inferno

The damp, dark perimeter of Hogwarts welcomed Hermione as she apparated next to the gates. The shock of watching Ginny succumb so easily to the zombies had left her shaky and sick, and she doubled over and fell onto the grass as sharp whispers from a few yards away wafted toward her.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?!" Albus demanded, his eyes glowing fire in the moonlight.

"Albus, there's no need for language like that-"

"_My father was standing in my living room with his jaw half way unhinged!_" He boomed, grabbing Hermione's attention immediately. "You tell me just how the _fuck_ my language is an issue!"

"Stop it! Stop it!" Lily began to cry, tears glistening on her pale face.

"Enough!" Hermione found her voice as she stood to wipe the mud from her trousers.

"Aunt Hermione, what is going on?" Lily asked quietly.

"Your father has been resurrected. But he did not come back normally or even as the form of a ghost."

"Yeah, no shit," Albus muttered.

"Albus just...stop. You can say your piece in a second but this is what you need to know. He is not exactly a human. He is what is...colloquially known...as...a zombie. Or the undead. He does not represent your father."

"And how exactly did a spitting image of my father who, might I add, was bleeding from _every_ orifice, end up in our _living room?_"

"Albus, I'll tell you, I promise if you'll just let me get to it-"

"Where's Mum?" Lily's voice rang clearly in Hermione's ears, breaking up Albus' biting angst.

"I-we need to get to safety." Hermione made eye contact with Neville, and recognition clouded his face. He dropped his gaze and respectfully took a step back from the children.

"How will she know where to find us? Why didn't she come with you? Where is she?" The 16 year old in front of her suddenly appeared to be no more than 5, clutching the soft pale folds of her night dress.

"Honey, I think after the night we've just had-"

"Answer her, Aunt Hermione. Where is Mum?" The tone of Albus's voice had changed completely. Absolute and unrestrained fear replaced the anger on his young features.

"She...I-I don't know what happened...she was in the middle of the room and I...I called out to her and it was like...she couldn't hear me and...they started closing in. I tried to fight them off, but she wouldn't...she was like stone. Her arm was heavy, I...I couldn't...she was...it was like she was cursed or under a spell and she..she couldn't hear me and I tried everything, I tried, and they were closing in and I had to...had to go because...they..."

She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, but the underlying meaning was clear. Ginny Weasley Potter was dead, and James, Albus, and Lily Potter were now orphans.

"W-what?" Lily's voice quivered.

"Neville..." Hermione trailed off, stepping away from them so that she could allow her tears to fall without being noticed.

She heard Neville whisper something to the two grieving teenagers, and knew that Albus had wrapped Lily into a tight hug as they cried. She couldn't explain anymore to them because truth be told, she didn't _know_anymore. Why had Ginny just stayed there? She was seemingly dead the minute she made eye contact with the zombie, as though there was an invisible force rooting her to the spot.

Suddenly a stray thought snapped her back to reality, away from the maelstrom of confusion.

"Oh...my..._NEVILLE!_" The shrill octave of her voice pulled Neville out of his grief and empathy for the remaining Potters. "Neville...if...if this...thing...can find Ginny. He can find Hogwarts. He can find...he can find our families...Rose..Hugo...James..."

"We have to stop him," Albus asserted, clinging to Lily's small, sweaty palm. "Before he...he hurts anyone else. We have to protect our family..."

"Albus, that's noble-"

"NO. You do not get to tell me what to do, Aunt Hermione. Both of my parents are dead, I am 18 years old, a year older than my father was when he defeated Voldemort. Now I don't know if this is from dark wizards, or what. I don't really care at this point. But I'm not going to let him destroy anything else that I love. Now I'm coming with you, to save our cousins. Lily, you're going to stay here at the castle."

"_NO_!" She shrieked. "I am not leaving you! Aunt Hermione, I'm coming with you. I'm coming to help."

Hermione's eyes darted back and forth between the two children, who looked so like their parents it made her heart ache desperately. What would Harry and Ginny want her to do? Would she have been able to battle, and possibly destroy, gross caricatures of her own parents? She made a snap decision, praying that she would not regret it.

"Fine," she relented.

Albus nodded gruffly and grabbed Lily's hand. "We should hurry. If they found us that easily before, we have to go now."

"Neville, go to your family. And warn the headmaster of the school. Get the word out as best you can," Hermione instructed. "Contact the prophet, contact whoever you can get a hold of. We have to stop this thing before it gets worse. And make sure Davies knows. We'll need that report ASAP."

"I'll go home first, get Hannah and bring her here. I still believe Hogwarts is one of the safest places we could possibly keep everyone. I'll contact all our relatives and try to get in contact with yours. But for now, go get Rosie," Neville replied.

Hermione turned to the Potters. "Here's what we're going to do. Lily, you're going to take my hand and we're going to apparate to my house to get Rose. Albus, meet us by the large oak tree that's a ways away from the property, do you know which one?"

"Yes," Albus confirmed, standing a little taller now that he had been given an official responsibility.

"Ok. So we'll go in, get Rose, and then we'll figure out what to do next. Neville, we'll send a patronous when we've figured it out."

"You're sure that's safe? These creatures have some kind of magical ability, we've figured that out. Do you think that they'd be attracted to a patronous?"

"Well, we'll either be coming to Hogwarts or...possibly the cabin that we owned in the woods. The one we used to go to on holiday at all the time?"

"Ok. Either place. We'll wait for you. Good luck," Neville said quietly, and Hermione gave him a curt nod.

"You too, Neville."

She turned to her niece and nephew as Neville disapparated home.

"On my count, Al. Lily, take my hand." A small, sweaty hand intertwined itself with her own. Hermione felt cold shivers run down her back as she sucked in a deep breath.

"1...2...3!"

The familiar pull of apparition was brief as Hermione and Lily were transported to the oak tree outside the Weasley residence.

"Albus?" Hermione called out, panic flooding her thoughts. All traces of the placid calm she had felt before arriving home were destroyed. She could hear the familiar scraping sound accentuated by the drone of mindless humming. Before her lay a black ocean ebbing and flowing upon her front garden. There must have been 400 of them. Hermione watched incredulously as their broken, uncoordinated bodies fought for precious traction on the trampled grass.

"AL!" Lily screamed. Hermione's heart fluttered quickly, pumping adrenaline throughout her body. "Where is he? _Where is he?!_"

"Lily, stay close to me and don't move." Hermione brandished her wand and pointed it at the gaggle of zombies before her. Spells sprinted through her mind, and she fleetingly wondered if a patronous would be an effective defensive measure. The light would most likely attract their attention but she had to do something quickly-Rose was in the house, alone.

Where in the hell was Albus? Scanning her surroundings quickly, she saw no trace of the raven-haired boy who looked so like his father. An idea sprang quickly to her mind, and she peered sideways at Lily before determining that it was the only course of action.

Hermione raised her shoulder toward the crowd and muttered the spell "Incendio."

Flame burst from the tip of her wand, igniting the perimeter of the mob. Strangled growls erupted immediately, and the wave of awkward bodies briefly stopped their dance. For a moment, Hermione thought she had contained the threat, but the center began to move as a unit toward the forest.

"Albus!" Lily shrieked again. "Please!"

"Come here," Hermione commanded. The large pack of undead humans inched toward them and she realised there was no hope for finding her nephew in the mess. He was lost to her.

"We can't leave him!"

"_Come Here_!" Hermione repeated. She grabbed Lily's hand and disapparated immediately.

Within seconds they stood in Hermione's bedroom. It was dark but she could make out the shadow of her bed and the dresser in the corner.

"How could you do that?!" Lily sobbed, dropping to the bed. "He could be dead!"

Hermione surveyed the situation quickly. No zombies had yet crossed the threshold of her personal quarters.

"Lily, stay here."

"_Fine!_" She seethed.

Grasping her wand, Hermione swallowed her fear and used the light of the nearly full moon pouring through her window to find the door. The hall was dark but she could hear Rose screaming from the front room, along with the resounding crash of breaking glass.

Her daughter was still alive! Hermione took off down the hall and toward the living room. The scene that met at the end of the hall would be nearly laughable if it wasn't so terrifying.

"_Mum!_" Rose cried. She was backed up against the fireplace, flanked on either side by two tall, dark haired men.

"Albus! James!"

"Aunt Hermione, watch out!" James called, shooting a spell toward a zombie approaching her on the right. Bits and pieces of poisoned flesh dotted the plush, light gray Italian carpeting. A stray head lolled aimlessly at her feet, and without thought she kicked it straight into the abdomen of another approaching creature.

James sliced his wand quickly through the air, violently severing arms off two zombies. Rose followed suit, decapitating a fair headed monster.

"Rose...the hallway is clear. Go into your room, grab whatever is most important to you that you can carry. Lily is in my room. Get her and wait there. Go." Rose nodded, her eyes wide. She sprinted from the room.

"Albus, James, stand back." With a soft sigh and a heavy heart, she raised her wand.

"Aunt Hermione, what-"

"_Back!_"

She whispered the spell first, knowing that the words could never be taken back. It was the only way.

"_Incendio._"

Flames ripped around the room, torching all her beloved memories.

"Mum, no!" Rose reappeared suddenly, distraught at the development.

"Go, James! Back of the house!" The zombies hissed as the flesh melted from them. Even the all consuming fire could not stop their charring bones from rattling on the floor, still impregnated with magic.

"Incendio," she repeated more forcefully, ensuring the entirety of the room was aflame.

She disappeared into the hallway and heard a scream from the back. James frantically emerged from Rose's room and ran toward the screaming.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" James yelled. The zombies had violated the window and were clambering through as broken glass sliced their emaciated, sagging skin. Lily, wand in hand, was fighting them off alone, holding her ground as she did so.

"James!" Lily said loudly, cutting her wand violently through the air.

Tall and muscular, James ran into the room and picked up his younger sister, slinging over her shoulder like a rag doll.

"Put me down!" she yelped, still using all of her force to attack the window.

"Disapparate to the cabin we used to use on holiday. Do you know where it is?" Hermione called. "James first, then Albus, then Rose. James, take Lily with you."

"Got it. Know where it is," James responded. She watched as they disappeared one by one. The zombies that had come in through the window were closing in on her, and she turned and saw several escapees limping down the hallway. Without time to even consider any alternatives, she set fire to her room.

Despair inched its way into her darkening heart as she watched the flames lash around her wedding picture, slowly destroying the frame and memories into oblivion.

Ron's face smiled out at her, waving happily as fire consumed the few remnants of his existence. Unable to take anymore, with zombies dying around her feet, she disapparated to the only thing left worth living for.

***

At the cabin, the remaining members of their respective families, minus Hugo, gathered around the large table that previously had served as the spot for lively games and hearty meals. Now it was a place to catch their collective breath, to rest if only for a second, and figure out what to do next.

"So what about Neville?" James was asking, after being filled in to the situation.

"He's getting his own family, and warning people. We'll probably eventually end back up at Hogwarts but I just wanted to clear our heads first," Hermione said quietly. "We'll make sure all your cousins are safe, and Hugo is at Hogwarts so he's most likely safe."

"Are we safe here?" Lily asked.

"I don't know. We're relatively secluded here, there's a lot of forest. It seems as though the threat has quadrupled. They are multiplying so fast, I've never seen anything like it. And most interestingly is that Harry wasn't there. Which means he must be somewhere else...just mass producing zombies."

"James, how is it you knew to find me?" Rose asked.

"I..." His eyes clouded as he dropped his gaze to the floor. "I went home. I saw the mess left there. No sign of Mum. I thought she'd be with you but...she's not, so I can only assume..."

"Mum's dead," Albus said simply.

"What?" Rose interrupted, startled. Lily nodded, her eyes dry as though she had no tears left to cry.

"I knew something was wrong, immediately," James admitted. It was then that Hermione realised James' words were slurring. He had been drinking prior to arriving home.

"James, go shower. Sober up. I'm going to make some food. We'll need to keep our strength up. We'll stay here the rest of the night, it must be 4 or 5 AM."

James nodded, shame invading his dark features. The group broke apart then, leaving Hermione to her thoughts. She checked the pantries and was happy to learn that they still had some non-perishable food stocked from their last holiday. As she pulled something from the tallest cabinet, a flash outside the kitchen window made her freeze.

Reaching into her pockets, she pulled out her wand and tiptoed to the front door. Opening it a crack, she could not see anyone, or hear the familiar scraping noise the zombies tended to make.

"Hello?" She called. "Neville?" She stepped further out into the front garden. Much further, and she'd be in the trees, surrounded by the budding spring vegetation and whatever forest creatures that lurked in the night.

She heard a snap and turned around quickly, expecting Harry's malevolent red eyes to meet her. The sallow, yellow gaze that pierced her made her gasp. As the figure stepped out of the shadows, Hermione felt her stomach lurch painfully. Her luck continued to spiral further downward as she dared to speak words she never thought she would ever utter again.

"Hello, Greyback."

* * *

**A/N**: Updated 4/21/2012- Thanks to my beta **AccioHPFF** for cleaning this up for me and making it look better! I apparently still hate questions marks, lol!

I did some research to see if Greyback was killed during the war, and according to canon, he actually is still alive. And thank God too, because y'all know what a canon writer I am! Definitely old old old...but alive. So! You can only imagine the type of hooligans that are about to go down!

I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll be getting started on another straight away! :)


	5. Blame

The woodland creatures were not the only beasts residing in the dense forest that blanketed the Potter's holiday cabin. Hermione desperately attempted to stop hyperventilating, but she found that she could no longer control the speed of her inhalation. She hadn't seen those yellow eyes in many long years.

Fenrir Greyback stepped further out of the shadows, and Hermione gaped at his frail form. Once the most frightening, savage being in the wild, Greyback was a whisper of his former self. Though he always appeared more beast than man, his fearsome silver fur was white and coarse, and he ambled slowly. His back was stumped and twisted with arthritis, and his limbs seemed willowy and incapable of holding what was left of his emaciated frame.

"You're the Weasley then, the mudblood," he coughed, sending a spray of red toward the grass. Hermione backed up warily, stunned at his appearance.

"Yes, I suppose. I don't want any trouble, and I will kill you," she asserted, clutching her wand with confidence and authority.

"Hah," he growled quietly, mustering the courage to move closer to her. "I don't have trouble with you, insolent woman. It's nearly the full moon anyway, I'll be finding my keep in the forest tomorrow. That'll keep those bastards away from me."

Recognition registered quickly on Hermione's face.

"You mean the zombies?"

"I mean whatever those dead eyed walking pricks are that killed the majority of my pack and made to come after me. Barely made it out alive, I'm embarrassed to admit. And I'm passing through here, and I see lights on at your place. So I knew it was either someone escaping or more of those loud pieces of shit. They make that awful noise when they are standing idle."

A wind blew from within the trees, sending a chill through Hermione's bones. The grass was beginning to dew, and the lasts whispers of the chilling onyx night were beginning to fade into the promise of morning.

"So you've seen them, then."

"Are you stupid, mudblood?" She winced. No one had called her that for years. "No, I'm talking about the other groups of people that go around and feast on brains for fun."

"Oh you mean like yourself?"

Greyback chuckled and sputtered some more, red spittle dripping from his crusted lips.

"I don't eat brains, girl. I don't fucking eat people. I've got high spirits when I'm a wolf though, very experimental. You can't fault me for that. But I never bit a person who didn't deserve it."

"I think Remus Lupin-"

"Don't you _dare_ utter that traitors name in my presence. I don't care how long he's been gone, or how long that war has been over. I don't tolerate hearing that name, I get a little more violent, if you know what I mean." His tone was menacing, but the sight of him nearly made Hermione laugh in his face.

"Fine. Don't worry. You're looking worse for the wear, Greyback. Life rough after the war? I heard you spent some time in Azkaban?"

He bared his teeth like the wild animal he was, anger darkening his countenance.

"Just because I look like an old man doesn't mean that come tomorrow night, I won't find this house and destroy your family."

"My family is already destroyed," she spat, matching his indignation. "And you won't touch my family. You go into your woods, and you enjoy your precious full moon. I've seen what these Zombies can do. So have you. If I were an old, dying wolf like yourself, I might think about making myself some allies, rather than antagonizing every person I come across."

"We'll see about that. Those fuckers attacked while we were in human form. I bet if they cross me during the full moon, there will be a lot less of them around."

"Well, I hope for the sake of our community right now that you are right. Keep an eye out for us."

"I don't do favours for filth like you. You're not worth wasting my breath on anymore."

Greyback began to hobble away, into the dark recesses of the forest. Hermione sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing her heart to return to its resting rate.

"Aunt Hermione?" Albus called from the front door.

"Yeah, I'm coming in. Sorry," she said, squeezing her eyes closed quickly before turning to go back inside.

"Who was that?"

"No one. A wanderer. Come on, let's get inside."

The house was warm and Hermione was relieved to be inside once more. She resumed her search for food, making sure that all the doors and windows were firmly secured. After settling on some cans of vegetables, she began the arduous task of preparing food. Purposely trying to ignore the conversation taking place at the back of the house, she focused on stirring the carrots, peas and broccoli, thankful that Ginny had thought to keep some stores of food.

Suddenly she was lost in destructive thoughts, her house swirling in hellfire, Davies and his reluctance to help, the loss of Ginny, her niece and nephews in the other room without parents. It had been so easy to forget that the entire nightmare was her fault and her fault alone. She felt the shame and worry wash over her, making her stomach feel like tight stone. How many lives had been destroyed because of her foolish plea for her best friend to live? Of all the people in the world, Hermione Weasley knew better than to play with magic, and yet she had let her guard down. How would she ever tell Lily that her father was a zombie because she had created him?

Mercifully she was pulled from the wretched reverie by the roar of emerald flames in the fireplace behind her. Startled, she nearly dropped the vegetables she'd been stewing to the floor. Removing the pan from the flame, she allowed her heart to slow down before approaching the living room.

Neville's face flickered brightly amongst the discarded ash. His countenance was twisted in concern.

"Neville!" Hermione breathed, relieved to see the familiar face. "Hannah, is she...?"

"She's fine. Everyone is fine. We're bunkered here at Hogwarts. So far, the zombies have not been able to breach our walls. We've been in contact with the Ministry...or what is left of it anyway. The Minister has been killed, but we do have the Deputy here. Percy Weasley. We also have Teddy here-"

"-Oh thank Merlin," Hermione sighed.

"He's unharmed, but has been engaging the zombies in battle with the rest of the Auror team. They've lost a good number already. Hugo is fine, he's at the castle asking for you. Hermione, Davies has done some preliminary testing... he has some results."

"That arse! I knew he could get results faster than he was saying he could," Hermione swore.

"It's not good. The substances on the glass, some of them are common potion ingredients but some of them seem to be new creations. He was able to date the substances. Some of them are from the 1970's, others are from the mid to late 1990's."

Hermione felt a stab in her temple as a particularly severe headache began to spread toward the back of her skull.

"Neville, you have got to be kidding me."

"I'm not. You know as well as I do that during those times the Ministry was infiltrated with dark wizards, working on Merlin knows what. The room that the autopsies take place in, as it should turn out, is an old apothecary which was only remodelled and turned into a morgue about 15 years ago. Therefore, some of the older potions, particularly the ones that were interesting colours, were left in cases to decorate the walls, kind of as a nod to the room's history."

Hermione sat down on the old flowered sofa adjacent to the fire place and put her forehead in her hands.

"So what you're telling me, is that whatever the chemicals were that mixed..."

"They were dark things, Hermione. Davies doesn't even know what they might have been used for on their own. But together it's just... a disaster."

"And most importantly of all, it's the work of Voldemort. Shit!" She swore loudly. "How is it possible that after all of these years, after all the things we've been through, that bastard still finds a way to destroy everything."

"It might not have come down directly from him, but it's definitely the work of the Death Eaters from the time. It could have been workers under the imperio spell, or it could have been Death Eaters that hid their agenda very well. But whatever happened, I can tell you that you are lucky to believe alive. Davies figures that exposure to several of the potions on their own might have killed you."

"Well, they didn't actually touch me," Hermione admitted. "They were just drawn by the force of the magic for whatever reason... Which still doesn't entirely make sense to me."

Neville nodded. "It's dark magic. We may never know the mechanism of action. It could be the electrical charge of the particles. Opposites charges attract, it could be something of a fluke."

She could feel the panic begin to rise in her throat, the familiar realizations she'd just managed to keep down minutes ago forcing their way to the surface.

"How could I...how could I have done this?" she choked.

"Hermione." The tone of Neville's voice had changed, and he was speaking to her more like a worried student than an old friend. "You honestly think you are the first person that has ever tried to revive someone with magic before? It's been tried millions of times, millions of different ways, by millions of different people. You trying to bring Harry back to us wasn't malicious in any way. That could have happened to anyone, and given the state of the the chemicals, which according to Davies were extremely volatile, it most likely would have happened to someone even using a simple summoning spell. It was going to happen eventually. I don't even think Voldemort himself would have predicted this to happen. Hermione, this is not your fault. You have not killed anyone, and you have not destroyed anything. So stop blaming yourself. You're brave, and you've done so much already. Now, we're still safe here so whenever you are able to, I would suggest coming here. Apparate outside the gates like normal and then come on in. Hogwarts will keep us safe."

"I know, I've always known that much. I'm going to try to let the kids get some sleep and have some food, and then we'll be off. I want to at least shield them from the questions as long as I can. Thanks, Neville. I needed that. We'll be seeing you soon, yeah?"

"We're holding the fort here. The kids are going to be waking up soon, and they still don't know what's happening. I think the Headmaster will be making some announcements soon. Stay safe. Speak soon."

He was gone then, leaving the fireplace cold, dark and empty, just as it had been before. The short visit from Neville was encouraging, but now she felt unclean and just wanted to get away.

"Mum?" Rose poked her head around the corner from the hallway. "Are you ok?"

Hermione raised her head and stood to meet her daughter.

"I'm fine, dear. I'm just fine. I've got some vegetables made. It's not much but it will at least keep our strength up for now. I want to stay here for the day, catch up on some sleep. I think I'm gonna shower first. Are your cousins ok?"

Rose brushed several stray strands of frizzy auburn hair from her face. Her normally bright blue eyes seemed dull as she answered.

"They're fine. Lily is sleeping, and Albus is talking to James right now. I think James feels bad because he was drunk, but don't be too mad at him, Mum. He is old enough."

"Oh, I know he is, I'm not mad at him. He's been through a lot lately. I just wanted him to rest and unwind. I kind of want everyone to do the same. Get James and Al to come have some food and then I want everyone to get a few hours sleep. Can you do that?"

Rose nodded, stepping further into the living room. She met her mother in the middle of the room, and then wrapped her into a large hug.

"I love you, Mum. Thank you for coming to save me. I probably wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for you, and James, and Al. I mean, Al just came out of nowhere. I don't even know how he knew. I was really scared, but I tried not to show it. I'm just glad that you were there."

"Oh Rosie," Hermione murmured, kissing the top of her daughters head. "I love you too. Of course I came to save you. Now listen. You get everyone to eat, I'm going to jump in the shower. I'll eat whatever you don't and then I'll be off to bed just like you lot."

"Ok, Mum." Hermione smiled reassuringly at her only daughter before vacating the room to have a shower.

The bathroom was small but functional, with modest fixtures and an average sized tub. Hermione turned the tap on and allowed the shower to run for a few minutes before stepping in. Dirt and grime dirtied the bottom of the tub as she washed the evidence of the night's events from her exhausted limbs.

Once she was clean, she threw on some blue trousers and a red blouse she found in the chest of drawers in the guest room. She and Ron had stayed there some years earlier, and Hermione was grateful that the garments still fit. After she was dressed and had eaten some limp, under seasoned vegetables, she decided to attempt to sleep. Sunlight, bright and cheerful, poured through the windows, but Hermione ignored its call. She retreated to the guest room, tucking herself tightly under the pink and red patchwork quilt. Sleep did not come easily, but it did eventually come.

***

"Mum! _Mum!_ Wake up! Please!"

Hermione jumped up, startled. She'd been tortured with nightmares about zombies, and her disorientation only further confirmed that most of them had been real.

"Mum, they are outside. There's only a few of them, but they are here. James and Al are taking care of it, but there's going to be more."

Shaking her head, the first thing Hermione noted was that it was once again dark.

"What happened?! You let me sleep all day?" She asked shrilly, throwing the covers off.

"We all slept, Mum. James woke up first. He heard them. Lily's in the back of the house. There's going to be more. I can hear them." Rose shivered.

Hermione leapt up from the bed and grabbed her wand. Her heart had already quickened its pace as she pictured the two boys fighting alone. She sprinted through the house and burst out the front door. Three dead zombies were piled at James' feet. They were decapitated, and Albus was preparing to set fire to the remains.

"Are you alright?" She asked, taking stock of the situation.

"There are more. They aren't here yet. It seems that they might be more dormant during the days."

"We need to go, we need to get to Hogwarts."

"Mum!" Rose called from the house. "I can't find Lily! She's gone!"

"_What?!_" James roared. "Where the hell did she go?"

"She was here one minute...and now she's gone."

"Well she can't have gone far!" Hermione panicked, frantically checking her surroundings.

"Lily! Lily!" Albus called, starting to search around the perimeter of the property.

"Albus, you stay here. I'll go look."

Suddenly there was a blood curdling scream from the forest.

"_LILY!_" Albus yelled.

"James, come with me. Albus, stay here with Rose. Albus...Albus, NO. _You will stay here with Rose!_" Hermione snapped at her nephew, who had been actively ignoring her instructions. "I mean it. I need you to stay here. Do you understand? _Answer me!_"

"Yes!" he snarled angrily.

"Good. James, come on."

James nodded and took off, sprinting into the unforgiving darkness of the forest. Hermione followed behind.

"Lily!"

"Over here!" A scream issued loudly and James veered to the right. The droning hum began to get louder, and Hermione knew that a fresh wave of zombies were close by. She skirted past a couple of wide tree trunks before catching up to James, who was crouched next to Lily's small frame. She was knocked clean out, with a bloody lip and what looked to be a broken wrist. James grabbed his wand and muttered "Reinnervate."

Lily's eyelids fluttered before finally opening wide.

"What were you doing?" He asked her, picking her up.

"I...I couldn't find you, there was no one in the house. I just kept walking and got lost. But James..there's a..a..a..."

"Werewolf," Hermione gasped. She heard his growl before she picked out his face. His fur was completely white but saliva dripped menacingly from his sharp teeth. Greyback. He moved with all the grace of a freight train, unstable and just as wobbly as a wolf as he had been as a man. His eyes were cloudy with cataracts, and he limped so horribly it was debatable whether or not he could be considered a werewolf at all.

"Son of a bitch," James cursed, staring at the wolf's aged form. He adopted an athletic stance, waiting to engage the beast in battle.

Strangely enough, the wolf did not appear to be interested in the three delectable, warm blooded humans. He spun quickly and sauntered off, towards the direction of the zombies. Hermione could see them now, hundreds of them, stumbling over tree roots and into thick patches of brush. Her mouth was agape as she watched Greyback charge toward the mob. It was as though he was forty years younger all of a sudden, as he began to rip limbs off with his bare teeth.

"He's saving us..." Lily trailed off.

"No, he's saving himself. Come on, we've got to get to Hogwarts," Hermione instructed. She was grateful for Greyback's intervention, despite the fact that his actions were self serving and foolish.

Ten minutes later, they were back in front of the cabin, the sound of the improbable battle providing an eerie soundtrack to their departure from the forest.

"Lils!" Rose screeched, greeting her cousin with a hug. Albus appeared to be relieved, if not disgruntled.

"We're not waiting any longer. Come on. We're off to Hogwarts." And with that, the group disapparated in hopes of finding a more calm environment to plan.

* * *

**_A/N_**: Hey everyone!

This time around I've of course got to thank my Beta and Skype BFF **AccioHPFF** for being so amazing and awesome. He beta'd the story, and over all is a great friend and has always been there when I need him.

Also, to **Giola** Because she made my day today, so she gets a dedication.


	6. Firearms

Chaos.

It was the only word to describe the scene waiting for the refugees outside Hogwarts. As soon as they apparated to the gates of the school, the melee began. There were too many of the walking dead to count, and they were milling the perimeter of the school, waiting for warmth to gasped as the side of her face made contact with the damp ground. Several zombies lost their balance and tumbled over her form before realizing they had stumbled upon a human. Horrified, Hermione leapt up from the ground and set her surroundings ablaze. She couldn't see her family, all she could hear was the screaming.

Tears sprung to her eyes as a sharp breeze assaulted her face. She sliced her wand through the air over and over again, severing limbs, lacerating rotting flesh, and burning the remains. In the distance she could see Albus and James, back to back, fighting the horde as best they could.

Heavy fatigue washed over her as the impromptu battle waged on. Her shoulder felt heavy and awkward, and she was constantly tripping over the fallen enemies. She spotted Lily and relief washed over her. The resourceful girl had taken to a tree and was stationed there, shooting spells while clinging to a sturdy branch, out of reach of the threat. Despite this, panic gripped her heart because she still had not spotted her only daughter.

A near constant flow of disfigured faces caked with blood assaulted her, and she knew they had to work toward the gate. The castle loomed magnificently in the background, offering a place to plot and hide. Hermione had never seen anything so beautiful. She began to work her way toward the two boys, who were holding their own. As she battled her way through the threat, sending spells forward, and backward, she heard a blood curdling scream from behind her.

Hermione spun around, taking two zombies down in the process, and her stomach tightened painfully. One of the zombies had taken Rose's wand and snapped it into pieces, littering the grass with its shards. Four of them began to close in on her, and Hermione's panic shifted into full gear.

"No!" She cried furiously, taking off into a sprint towards Rose. She knew she'd never get there in time, but she elbowed zombies out of the way.

"Mum!" Rose screamed, her cries strangled and raspy. Hermione's breath was ragged and her legs felt like dead weights, as though her effort were completely useless. Rose flailed her arms and legs, attempting to kick them away, but there were too many of them, and her fight was futile.

And then, just like her Aunt Ginny, Rose stopped fighting. She stood, her knees locked into extension, a blank look etched on her exhausted countenance. The zombies advanced on their prey, their droll hum suddenly excited at the impending feast.

"No! Please, No!" Hermione was completely unable to look away from her daughter's final seconds of life. She felt tears of despair collect painfully at the corners of her eyes. The zombie directly in front of Rose opened its putrid mouth, ready to tear into her warm flesh, when his head exploded with a loud bang. Within seconds, all the zombies around her were down, and Rose was left in the middle, still alive, still healthy, face wet with tears.

Hermione whipped around to locate her saviour. A tall, blonde man emerged from the shadows, a large shotgun strapped around his broad chest. Rose broke down upon seeing him.

"Scorpius!" she screeched, falling like a rag doll into his strong arms. Hermione felt her jaw drop and then promptly closed it. She had far more pressing matters to worry about, like the ravenous zombies that were closing in on them.

"Scorpius. Keep her guarded. Stay with me. We've got to move out of here," Hermione commanded, slicing her wand through the air once more. She could see Albus and James ahead, still holding their own.

"Right," Scorpius replied, cocking his gun back. "Let's murder these sons of bitches." He took aim and fired straight through the forehead of one of the zombies, and it fell unceremoniously to the soggy earth. A cry escaped Hermione's dry throat as she realized the face of the fallen monster belonged to Seamus Finnigan.

"Oh, Seamus," She whispered sadly, stepping over his mutilated form. "We've got to get back over to the other two. We can set the field on fire if we do it that way, it seems to kill them relatively-" she paused to remove the limbs from a female zombie wearing a torn miniskirt with matching halter top "-effectively, but seems to take quite a long while. It will at least take their attention off us."

"Stay close to me," Hermione heard Scorpius murmur softly to Rose, as he prepared for another shot. Rose nodded and latched onto his arm, helpless without a wand.

The trio fought their way to the centre of the conflict, covered by Lily who was still fighting up on her branch. After several gruelling minutes, they finally made their way to Albus and James, who both looked like warriors dotted with the sludge that sat in the zombies' veins.

"We can't keep them off forever, there are too many of them," James shouted, continuing his slaughter. "I don't know where they are coming from, but I know I've killed at least two that were in my year at Hogwarts. It's endless."

"Can't we reach Hogwarts somehow?" Albus' voice was nearly drowned out by the disgusting drone of the zombies.

As if on cue, Hermione saw an angel float over in the sky.

"Brooms!" Lily screeched, pointing upward. A dozen people on broomsticks glided towards them, assisting immediately in the battle.

"_Incendio_" Hemione asserted, and the flames issued from her wand, licking at the pasty, deteriorated skin of the undead before them. The brooms circled around the survivors, swooping lower as the inferno raged around them.

"It's hot," Rose complained quietly, clutching Scorpius's arm. A putrid odour infiltrated their nostrils, and Hermione felt Albus wretch beside her.

"Stay strong," she ordered loudly. "They're nearly here." She watched as one of the figures arced across the sky like a shooting star, grabbing Lily from the branch as though she was a rag doll, and carrying her back over the grounds to Hogwarts.

"Ok, Rose, you first. Then Albus, Scorpius, and James. Here comes the first." The rescuer flew down and grabbed her hand, pulling her up onto the broom. Hermione caught Scorpius's pained expression as his secret lover flew away from him to safety. The rest of the boys were rescued shortly after that, and finally Hermione was floating above the hellish blaze. Never one to fully appreciate the benefits of travelling by broom, Hermione clung tightly to her rescuer. Woozy by the time they made it back to the castle, she climbed off the broomstick, thankful for solid ground once more.

"Thank you," She breathlessly stated, holding out a hand. "What is your name?"

"Anderson McLaggen. Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, 7th year."

"Thank you, Anderson. Thank you so much."

The rest of the rescuers, who were all either professors or students who were of age, lead them into the castle. The moon was beautiful in the night sky, and the hum of the zombies was nowhere in ear shot.

Neville greeted them the moment they stepped through the grand doors.

"Merlin," he whispered, staring at the ragtag group of survivors.

"They are everywhere outside the walls. They appear to be unable to breach the protections of Hogwarts at this moment, but there are hundreds... maybe thousands of them. They're multiplying so fast. We did what we could; it's amazing we made it out alive. Some of us almost didn't..." Hermione trailed off and snuck a glance at Rose.

"Is that Scorpius Malfoy?" Neville asked.

"Yes, sir," he replied, slinging the gun across his back.

"How did you end up here...with a gun?"

Scorpius sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I was in my flat when I saw the zombies outside the window. I ran outside to see what was going on and immediately realised the threat. I didn't even have time to go to see if my parents were ok, I got away to find Rose. When I got to her house, and saw that it had burned down and that there were these zombies everywhere, I tried to fight some. I lost my wand in the process, and I saw that the shed was still standing in their back garden. I went in hoping to find something... anything. I saw this old gun and recognized it from some conversations I'd had with Rose. I picked up the gun and some Ammo, which I'm still not entirely sure how to work, and then decided that I'd try to come to Hogwarts. I never dreamed it'd be like this. And then I saw Rose, but the zombies were closing and she wasn't... moving. Why weren't you moving?"

"I... I... I don't know," she admitted. Hermione listened intently because she had been wondering the same thing herself. "At first I was scared and I was crying... and then something happened. I caught one of their eyes... and it was like I couldn't move. Truth be told, in that moment it's like my brain was telling me that I didn't _want_ to move. So I didn't. I don't know what would have happened if... if Scorpius hadn't been there." She began to weep softly.

"It's like they have some kind of power that paralyses their victims before they kill. There's obviously some type of magical ability that's transferred once the victim has succumbed. It appears that they are muggles and wizards alike, and that the illness is spreading."

Hermione was vaguely annoyed by the fact that Neville referred to the zombies as an "illness" but did not respond.

"But we're safe here, right?" Albus asked.

"Yes. You're safe here. Come on then, let's get you cleaned up at least, and some food. Others will continue to arrive; we're going to have teams sweeping the grounds constantly."

"That's a good idea. I assume you have the room of requirement set up for them?"

"We do. Showers are in there and everything. Get cleaned up, there will be a hot meal waiting for you when you're done. I'll have one of the house elves show you the way." Hermione nodded as the kids stalked off after the house elf, who continued to work at Hogwarts despite having been freed by Hermione's own house elf initiatives.

Once they were out of earshot, Hermione sucked in a deep breath and turned to Neville. "What does Headmaster Flitwick have to say about what's going on?"

Neville lead Hermione further into the Great Hall and they sat down at a table before he answered.

"He's deeply concerned. Of course the safety of the children is paramount and always our first concern. It's quite possible that half of the parents of these children are no longer living. There's really no good way to find out, either. Right now, we're protected by the intense magical shields guarding the castle, but we figure that these won't last forever. The zombies themselves radiate magic, especially those that were witches and wizards previously. And it seems as though the more zombies they make, the stronger they become. One thing that's important to us is we haven't been able to locate Harry. He seems to be the ring leader of them. That's what Percy Weasley has been telling us, he has people out scouting them out. The most concerning thing is... well..."

Neville trailed off for a moment, as though he almost regretted bringing the subject up. Hermione drummed her fingers impatiently on the wooden table, awaiting the bad news.

"They seem to not only be able to change living humans but... they seem to be able to wake the dead."

"_WHAT!_" Hermione gasped, feeling a sharp pain in her stomach. "Raise the dead? Who have they managed to raise?" She feared the answer, prayed it wasn't true.

"Not Voldemort," Neville said quickly, dispelling her fear. "He doesn't have a body to resurrect. But it also means that this army could be endless. This battle could never end. We have to consider the possibility... that our side is the minority in this war."

Hermione pushed her chair away from the table and stood abruptly. "Neville, this is madness. It's barely been 48 hours; you can't tell me that the entirety of the world's population is now zombies. What about people overseas? Surely the zombies haven't managed to swim across the damn ocean and infect France, or even more hilariously, Americans. Or Africans. I mean, is this contained in the UK?"

She slammed her hands into her hips and tapped her toe, staring Neville down.

"I don't know, Hermione." Neville sounded exhausted as he continued, "I've told you what I know. It's something we haven't experienced before."

"I know that, but all I know is what I've seen, and these things are relentless, and damn near as hard to kill as Voldemort was. It's almost like every single zombie Harry creates is a fucking Horcrux..." Hermione trailed off thoughtfully. "I need to go to the library."

Neville gaped at her incredulously.

"I... you can't be _serious_?! The Library? At least take a shower first! You'll smudge the books with that disgusting zombie blood on your fingers."

But she had already walked away, a new purpose in her step.

***

The tomb loomed before him, illuminated by the great moon that hung perfectly in the cloudless sky. The stars twinkled magnificently, reflecting in the modest lake that surrounded the small island. It was quiet around the quaint wooded area, except for the sound of a gurgling drone that echoed sickeningly in the solemn silence. The centrepiece of the island was the large, magnificent tomb made of white marble. It stood out in contrast to the onyx heavens, a small monument of tranquility.

_Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. _

The zombie with the lightning bolt scar arrived at the island alone, away from the massive army that he had created. The first of his kind, he acted without conscious thought or reasoning, yet there seemed to be a pattern to his actions. He used the strength he that had gained from his feeding habits to remove the lid of the unblemished tomb.

Though he was incapable of showing human emotion, the zombie reached down within the tomb and pulled out a wand that rested inside. Holding the thin stick between his clumsy fingers, the monster moved his arm slowly across the air, as though the stick would perform an action for him.

A great yellow light issued from the tip of the wand. The zombie shoved the wand in his bloody, stolen black trousers. He turned and crept slowly back into the water, toward the land and the army he had left.

Behind him, the contents of the tomb rustled. A fresh zombie, newly turned, sat straight up, his long, white beard rustling softly in the wind.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to my beta **AccioHPFF** For betaing this for me, and catching something SO HUGE AND AMAZING that it has completely changed something I hadn't even thought of. Big Big Big Thanks to him, and eventually y'all are going to be thanking him too!


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